


moment

by anaanaai



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: M/M, some artsy fartsy bs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaanaai/pseuds/anaanaai
Summary: otoya decides to grow out his hair for the upcoming music video and asks tokiya to help him dry it.





	moment

**Author's Note:**

> i've been reading a looooot of hanahaki fics from different fandoms, and felt like writing one myself... i dont feel like i properly did a hanahaki fic more like a.... weird.......... nightmare...... thing.... idk i wrote this while watching kh2 so sorry if its confusing

Tokiya watches Otoya fall over once again in the dance studio, longer hair that he’s been growing out the past few months clinging to his face and neck. His breathe lost and face flushed, Otoya lets himself settle on the ground to relax his heart.

Tokiya pushes back the thoughts that arises- reaches into his lungs and rips out any weeds left in the garden that’s built inside him.

He stretches out his hand to the other boy to help him up.

“Let’s call it a day, I can’t be bothered to carry you all the way to the car if you pass out here.”

Otoya lets out a small laugh while grabbing Tokiya’s hand to stand on his feet.

The choreography for Setsugetsuka is rigorous and demanding, a new method Otoya has never tried before during his own lives. He’s used to being the hype man, letting himself jump around and work his body freely- but now his torso twists delicately with fan in hand. The director told him his needs to be like a blooming flower. Tokiya thinks Otoya understands them, subtle yet graceful, and then let out more vigor as the chord progression escalates.

It’s still hard to get used to, he can tell, as Otoya trips over his feet during a épaulé . He’s not used to being soft, being restrained in his music. Otoya is summer- he’s the harsh sun beams, the buzzing excitement rampant in his leg work, the never ending smile on his face bringing even Tokiya out of a solitary orbit. He’s already bloomed, his fingers tangling vines as he holds Tokiya’s hands, keeping them together. He’s the warmth that thaws his snowy winter.

He can’t help but wonder if Otoya knows the garden that he’s planted in Tokiya’s body.

Thorns press against his heart that pumps too fast when he thinks about it.

This is why he helps the other practice dancing, his snow softening the petals bursting in the warmth.

The two leave the studio together and get to their room soon enough, Tokiya had already showered at the studio so it’s Otoya he waits on while grabbing hair supplies.

Otoya, clueless as always, doesn’t know about proper hair maintenance. As his hair grew longer, the more he would bat his eyes at Tokiya whilst asking for help. He couldn’t just run it dry with a towel anymore, and his hands aren’t steady enough to balance a brush and a blowdryer at the same time. It’s become routine at this point that Tokiya has resigned himself to dealing with the red locks.

“Tokiya---! I’m finished!” Otoya calls as he comes out, steam emitting from the door as he walks out in his casual clothes. He meets Tokiya’s eyes and smiles warmly, just like normal. “I really can’t thank you enough for helping me.”

“You know you have to grow up one day, right?”

“Yeees, yes,” he rolls his eyes, having heard this everyday and knowing Tokiya will do the same tomorrow, “but until then! Please take responsibility and treat me kindly!”

It’s in a jokingly flirty tone that he says this- Tokiya still swallows twigs and leaves like bile.

Despite feeling fungi cloud in his mind, spreading to his body (armillaria melea, he’s identified it as, grew all over his back where he can’t pick at. Where he can’t get rid of the threads that go around his neck like a--) he smiles right back at Otoya and turns on the blow dryer. Patting the couch once, signalling to sit down.

Taking the towel from his roommate, he goes to work getting rid of any access water. Otoya lets out little hums as he does, soft and everything darling. How could anyone not smile as Otoya’s usually boisterous voice gets as gentle as cotton, singing to himself random lyrics that Tokiya joins along in. It’s a game to them only, taking turns singing whatever comes to mind. They never write them down- it would take away something sacred Tokiya thinks.

When that’s done he signals Otoya to lower his head to separate hair in parts. Otoya just hums once more and lets his eyes close.

His eyelashes are beautiful… they curl like the spider lilies the two of them had worked so intimately with just last year.

Acacia blossoms tickles at his throat. He’s not sure if the red wrapping around his fingers are carnations or Otoya’s hair. He distantly wonders if Otoya feels his nails turning into bark, moss seeping underneath it.

He finishes and takes the now burning hair dryer and a brush, weaving through stunning scarlet and flecks of orange reflecting the sunset streaming from the window. The smell of heat fills his nose and the sound distracts him from dogwood splintering out of his body.

“Cover your ear.” Tokiya whispers while the other tries not to nod off. He knows how sensitive Otoya’s ears are- he tries not to linger on that fact for too long. He forces to focus on his job instead of the red tipped ears that he finds-

Moving the dryer to near his roots to assure they’re dry, he sees Otoya’s nose wrinkle in discomfort at the sensation.

Flower shaped bruises, chaenomeles, form across his forearm. He takes the brush and carefully rakes through the newly dried hair.

If he admits to loving something, it would be his own handiwork when doing hair and makeup. This hasn’t been the first situation where he’s had to handle Otoya’s looks, but he takes great pride in his skills. When Otoya’s hair bounces down to frame perfectly around his face- he feels a swell in his heart knowing he had done this.

Tokiya stops for a moment to let himself measure the length Otoya’s hair has grown. It’s not a style he’d think he’d like on someone- yet Otoya pulls it off beautifully. It’s close to his shoulders now, styled so the newer grown hair is thinner than what’s Otoya’s usual cut.

He turns off the dryer, silence almost deafening afterward, and squeezes product into his hand.

He pulls the other’s hair back, lifting his face to meet sleepy red eyes and spider lily lashes. Otoya wrinkles his nose again and smiles at Tokiya.

The sun’s set becomes brighter while Tokiya teases the hair, getting it to be as messy as Otoya likes. It always makes Otoya laugh- it always make Tokiya sick to his stomach. This tepid, warm, sticky feeling like sap bleeding out of trees, he ponders scratching to see if he bleeds honey or blood.

“There, all done.”

Otoya doesn’t get up quite yet, still half awake, however he brings his hand up to Tokiya’s cheek, touches it with a feather touch.

“You do always take such good care of me… Thank you.”  
  
Sometimes he wonders if he could pluck away at the buds on his skin, just so he could adorn the boy in front of him with flowers of all kind. He wants to unravel this garden to show him when he feels lonely. He wants to surround Otoya in his illness until he drowns in nothing but beauty he causes.

Otoya’s fingers are warm against his snowy skin. His heat the sun that helps the seeds in the other’s body grow. It’s always been like this. He makes Tokiya grow.

Tokiya can feel the cracks of everywhere he touches coming undone. Petals leak from his lips, ice dropping melting instantly against tan skin. Out comes hellebore, snowdrops, witch hazels, a striking red rose leaves his mouth instead of words.

When Otoya kisses him sweetly, everything leaves him. Bushes creep from the under the couches, moss spreading from the walls where new life blossoms. The room now growing trees from the windows as a garden comes to life. Winter winds howl and spring rain slowly drowns them in a chaotic mess. The world shakes---

When they part, Otoya’s fingers still on Tokiya’s lips, the stars are shining and the moon gives a spotlight to two idols in their shared room of nearly a decade. 

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: all the flowers except the rose grow during winter! i wanted to keep tokiya's snow theme as much as possible.


End file.
